Harry Potter and the Original Five
by Kateen
Summary: When Harry finds out some interesting secrets about hiself and life as he knew it, he begins to change. Still a student, but not a student at the same time, what on earth is going on with Harry???
1. Chapter One: No Rest For The Weary

**Harry Potter and the Original Five**

Chapter One

**No Rest for the Weary**

Uncle Vernon was waiting beyond the barrier.  Mrs Weasley was close by him.  She hugged Harry very tightly when she saw him and whispered in his ear, "I think Dumbledore will let you come to us later in the summer.  Keep in touch, Harry."

"See you, Harry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.

"'Bye, Harry!" said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Harry – thanks," George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at his side.

Harry winked at them, turned to Uncle Vernon and followed him silently from the station.  There was no point worrying yet, he told himself as he got into the back of the Dursleys' car.

The Dursleys were all fuming silently as they drove.  Dudley was sitting in the back, talking on his new mobile phone; "_I said I don't want to!_" he shouted into it before hanging up on the poor person on the other end.  His mother, Harry's aunt, turned around and glared balefully at Harry.  

"What did I do?" Harry demanded.

She turned and sat down again, ignoring him.  Uncle Vernon was red-faced as he drove.  Harry supposed he was angry again, as usual.  Dudley looked around and saw a supermarket,

"I want Chocolate!" he said imperiously.

Harry groaned, "not again!" he muttered.

Uncle Vernon screeched to a halt in front of the supermarket, "don't you _ever_ talk like that again!" he shouted at Harry, who leaned back as the spittle flew from his uncle's mouth.  Vernon continued, "because of your rudeness, you can go into the supermarket and get Dudley's chocolate!" he commanded.

Climbing out of the car, suppressing a second groan, he turned around and held out his hand.  Uncle Vernon looked suspiciously at it, "what do you want, boy!"

"If I'm going to buy chocolate, I need money."

"Oh," his uncle looked flustered.  He put his hand into he wallet and pulled out the first thing his hand came in contact with.

One hundred pounds.

Without even looking, he passed it over to Harry.  This in itself was suspicious behaviour for Uncle Vernon who was always very careful never to give Harry _anything_.  Harry watched suspiciously as he went into the supermarket.  

The aisles were large, and obscured his view of the car as he searched for some chocolate for Dudley.  He found a large block of Cadbury's dairy milk and went to the checkout to pay.  Glancing out the window, he realized that the Dursley's car had gone.

He didn't worry initially, he just guessed that they'd gone out the back to wait while he bought the chocolate.  Then he saw the owl.

That was Hedwig!  

Placing the Chocolate in the cart in front of him, he raced outside to Hedwig, "Hedwig!" he shouted, "what happened?"

She hooted at him sadly and then looked to the piles of boxes beside her; it was all of his luggage from school.  They'd left him there, in… where was he?  He stuffed the note into his pocket and put Hedwig back into her cage before turning and beginning to drag his bags down the street, hoping against hope that they were there waiting for him, laughing that he'd been fooled so easily.

They weren't there.

Harry stared around wildly, what could he do?  Where could he go?  How the heck was he going to carry all his luggage around?

Something clicked… he didn't have to.  He could just charm it to be feather-weighted and then shrink it down to size so that he could carry it in his pocket.  Hedwig he could send ahead of him; she could fly.  Then he remembered that he wasn't allowed to do magic in the holidays, except in emergencies.

Was this an emergency?  That was the question.

Then he thought about it, would being abandoned count as an emergency in the wizarding world.  Harry wasn't sure.  Then something clicked, this is what Dumbledore meant, going to stay with the Dursleys first.

If Harry went to stay with the Dursleys, he was protected somehow.  Probably he was protected even if they abandoned him, but then again, maybe not.  So now he needed somewhere to stay.

Harry wasn't a stranger to abandonment.  He had been left on a doorstep on his first birthday when his parents had been killed.  Since then, his aunt and uncle had used many ploys to try and get rid of him but up until now, none of them had been successful.

Perhaps all this constant abandonment and fending for himself meant that Harry was able to take care of himself when the need arose.  Perhaps this was why he was thinking so calmly.  He quickly charmed his bags and set Hedwig free, after checking to see that nobody was looking.

The Leaky Cauldron, the only place that Harry knew of in the wizarding world that was offering beds.  Unfortunately for him, he couldn't remember _where_ in London that was, and even if he was in London at all.  He walked around, lost, for a while, searching for the familiar drab doorway.

As the light slowly faded behind him, Harry suddenly felt a great weight fall down on his shoulders, he felt so tired, so sleepy.  Maybe if he just lay down and went to sleep for a nap, he'd wake up and feel so much better.  Maybe, just maybe…

When Harry opened his eyes, and stretched a little, he realized that he felt strangely warm and comforted.  He stood up blearily; "Ugh," he groaned.  His back was sore, his legs stiff and his head was pounding.

"Remind me _never_ to sleep on the street again!" he muttered to himself.

A soft hooting from his feet caused him to look down.  Hedwig was standing on his right shoe, peering warily at a dog who was glaring balefully at Harry from the ground.

The dog was large and black, looking almost like Sirius did when he'd transformed, but Harry knew that this one couldn't be Sirius because Sirius had gone off to do some work for Dumbledore, he'd gone to Remus Lupin's house.

So that was why he'd been so warm, Harry thought.  I wonder whose dog that is, "Hello," he said, bending down to ruffle the dog's ears, "who are you?" he asked, almost cheerfully.

Suddenly the dog gave a bark and transformed into a man.  Hedwig gave an unusual squeek and flew up into the air and around a tree.  The man glared at Harry, "What are you doing out here, Harry?" he asked angrily.

"I… Uhhh… Wait, what are you doing here?  You're meant to be at Lupin's!"

It was, of course, Sirius.  Yet again, Sirius was saving him from some problem or other, and this time it was freezing to death!

"Dumbledore sent me to get you.  You're to go back to Hogwarts for the rest of the summer,"

Harry looked at Sirius, "but, I mean, can't I … you know, stay with you?"

"Sorry Harry, but the Ministry needs to know exactly where _you_ are and with whom.  Me, well, I'm a wanted criminal…"

"Argh, shit!" Harry moaned, holding his head in his hands for a few moments while his godfather regarded him worriedly.  Finally, he straightened up and agreed, "okay, so how do I get back?" he asked.

Sirius looked at him warily; "are you sure?"

Sighing, Harry answered, "not really.  In a way I'd like a break but if Dumbledore says it's the best idea, then it's the best idea.  I'll go back, it's fine."

Harry walked through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, to the Hogwarts Express.  For the first time he could remember, he was the _only _person on the platform.  He didn't have to worry about luggage this time because it was still so small he could carry it in his pocket.

It was a dismal day.  The typical London drizzle was just waiting to be let out and Harry knew that it was merely a matter of time before it started to rain.  There was something about London that meant that the weather was in a permanent state of dreadfulness.  Harry was used to it, but he wondered how on earth anyone could keep their spirits up when the weather was playing down on their mood…

Sirius had told Harry that one of the teachers would be meeting Harry at Hogsmeade station but he would be pretty much on his own during the holidays, because most people would have gone home and only one or two teachers would still be at the school.  Naturally Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, would be there if there was a problem.

Because he'd slept on the street last night, Harry was stiff and tired when he finally got onto the Hogwarts Express and managed to fall asleep almost as soon as he'd sat down.  The journey passed in a bit of a blur for him, he woke only for a few minutes as the train jolted through a particularly rough part of a tunnel.  Normally a lady would have come along, pulling a trolley of food, but she'd obviously gone on holiday.

The entire trip took, as usual, almost the entire day but it seemed to Harry that it was merely a few minutes after they started moving that they arrived.  When the doors opened, he climbed gingerly down from his carriage and jumped onto the platform.

Nobody was on the platform to meet him, so he just moved into the shadows to wait.  He supposed that because it was holidays, they were just running late.  There was nothing to suggest anything out of the ordinary, merely a complete lack of people.  

Then the ground shook.  Harry started and moved even further into the shadows.  Something was going on; something strange.  Harry had a feeling that he, Sirius and his headmaster had been manipulated into something that was going to get him into trouble.  The problem was, he didn't have a clue what it was.

There were three people on the platform walking directly to his hiding place.  None of them looked like teachers.  Harry stared in shock as these people moved to stand right in front of him.  One of them spoke;

"Harry Potter?" he asked, looking directly at Harry.

Harry didn't say anything, he was wondering what the hell was going on and what these people wanted with him.

The man beside the speaker lifted his hand to Harry's head, raised his hair to see the scar; "It is him, master,"

Something inside Harry always twinged when he heard someone refer to someone else as master.  It reminded him of Voldemort and his servants, the way they referred to him and the inner circle.  Quite honestly, he thought that Voldemort was an out-dated nut who needed to be killed so that everyone else could get on with the more important task of… living.

Unfortunately for Harry, Voldemort didn't agree and certainly wasn't allowing himself to be killed.  He was holding almost all the cards at the moment, and Harry knew it.

"Potter, you will come with us!" commanded the first of the three men, "we have a gift for you."

Harry looked at their eyes for a moment, and suddenly he realized that he _did not_ want to go with these three people, "ahh, it's alright.  I'd rather wait here, thanks.  I'm being met by some teachers."

"_Petrificus__ Totalus!_" said the second man, pointing his wand at Harry.

Not being able to move, but being completely conscious, Harry felt himself being lifted and moved into the waiting room.  He was then shackled to the wall; a chain around his arms, legs and waist.

The men cast charm after charm on the bindings, Harry listening carefully; trying to determine which Death Eater was which.  One of them peered into his eyes after a few minutes, and Harry looked into his eyes.

They were dead.  No emotion, no realization of the disgusting things they'd seen.  Harry almost spat on him, but couldn't move his mouth.  

_Smack!_

Harry was knocked unconscious by a hand hitting him just about his eyes.


	2. Chapter Two: Captive

Harry Potter and the Original Five Chapter Two Captive Harry awoke hours later, in the waiting room at the Hogsmeade Station; still damp from the last flood a millennium ago. He was chained to a wall, naked, raised from the ground. The chains were strong, charmed with many binding and strengthening spells so that when someone like him was needed, they could be contained. He struggled a little, but couldn't move the bonds. He was truly a prisoner. But, of whom? "OI!" he shouted, "OI!" Nothing happened. "HEY!" he tried again, "HEY! Would someone help me, please!" he shouted. There was a rustling above him, and a few minutes later a head peered around a door, Harry couldn't recognize who it was for they were in the attire of a death eater. "Ahh, Mr. Potter, you are awake at last," came the sneering comment of the death eater. "What do you want, this time?" Harry asked wearily. "We want you, Mr. Potter." Harry snorted, "Well, good luck to you." "Crucio!" the man hissed, pointing his wand at Harry. A searing pain he had only felt a few times before, seared through his body; piercing his scar. He felt like his body was splitting open, the thousands of tiny seams holding him together were just ripping open. He screamed loudly, and it stopped immediately. The man came towards Harry, "That's right, Potter, scream; it only get's better!" something about the slimy, oily voice was just too familiar, but Harry couldn't place it. What he said though, it made Harry determined that he would not scream. "We want you to join us, in our task," said the man. "Never!" said Harry viciously, "I would never do anything for you."' "Don't be so sure!" the man leered, "Crucio!" Harry gritted his teeth together, forcing himself not to cry out, and at that moment, something in him changed, some link between his mind and his body slipped and broke. He felt no pain, felt no aches, no knives. He just knew that it was happening, to him. As abruptly as everything had begun, it ended again and he was fully aware of all his body parts again; "why do you not cry out, Mr. Potter?" asked the Death Eater in front of him. When Harry remained silent, he lifted his wand; "Imperio!" The amazing sensation of floating came back to Harry again, nothing seemed important. Nothing seemed to matter, anymore. He was free.  
  
Answer Me!  
  
That voice, altogether too coaxing, perhaps Harry should just tell him what he wants to know and then everything would get better.  
  
But wait, didn't we deal with this last time? Said a voice in the back of his mind, by giving in and telling him; you are giving Voldemort opportunities, betraying your parents!  
  
Just Answer Me!  
  
Harry's eyes flashed angrily, and that's when the Death Eaters realized that something was wrong, that things had changed. He was still tied up, but they didn't have the upper hand anymore. They exchanged mystified glances, they'd never been told what to do in a situation like this. The one controlling the curse turned back to Harry, trying again.  
  
Answer Me! Just Answer Me. Everything will be perfect if you answer me  
  
"The hell I'll answer you!" Harry shouted finally, the curse was broken. He felt an amazing surge of power and the bonds on his arms broke, the shackles on his legs cracked and the chain around his waist snapped. He stood up straight, "This is foolishness. You are mere specks of the problem and killing you would serve a huge purpose. Petrificus! Leviosa! Vas y!" he shouted, binding them together, levitating and then sending them just ahead of him towards the castle. No longer prepared to wait for teachers, he walked out the gate and down the main street into Hogsmeade. People had blacked out their windows and were all inside. Not a soul was in sight. When he reached the front doors at Hogwarts, he raised the knocker and knocked three times. Knowing the size of the castle, he figured he would have to wait for a while before anyone came to the door. It was opened by a houself. "'ello, Sir, can I 'elp you?" said a squeaky voice as the door was pulled open. "Ah, I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore, or Professor McGonagall," Harry said, urgently, looking around the entrance hall. "Harry Potter!" screeched the elf. He glanced down and recognized the elf as Dobby, "Hello, Dobby!" Dobby grinned, and then caught sight of the three captives, "I will go find Professor Dumbledore, if I can, Sir," he said reverentially. "No need, Dobby. I'm here. I just went looking for you Mr. Potter. Who met you at the station?" said Dumbledore coming slowly down the stairs on one side of the Entrance Hall, looking mildly curious. Harry looked decidedly uncomfortable; "Professor, I was not 'met' at the station, unless you count these three," he motioned to the three Death Eaters. Dumbledore's cheerful expression dissolved to anger, "three Death Eaters, in Hogsmeade? What happened?" Shaking his head, "I honestly don't know, Professor." he proceeded to explain as best he could what had happened since he got off the Hogwarts Express the day before, including his abandonment by the Dursleys and the arrival and activities of the Death Eaters. "It's such a pity that Poppy isn't here, she's gone to help at St. Mungo's, you know. You look well enough but I would have liked to have you checked over just to be sure. Well, off to your dormitory; your password is No joke." Harry nodded and started towards the door. He had a quick thought, "Ahh, Professor?" "Yes, Harry?" "Will I be allowed to go to Hogsmeade through the holidays?" Dumbledore's face returned to a cheerful, almost bemused expression, "of course, although I expect that someone will need to know in advance."  
  
Harry unpacked his luggage in the dormitory and went down into the empty Common Room. The fire was crackling, although it was warm outside. Without the Weasley Twins plotting pranks in one corner, however, it was empty and lonely. Suddenly there was a 'pop' and Dobby was standing in front of him, "Harry Potter! You is back! Harry Potter!" he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, "but what is you coming back for, sir?" Dobby asked, stepping back and straightening a little. "I don't have anywhere else to go, anymore," Harry said brusquely, and turned away, "Dobby, when will dinner be served?" "That is why I is coming here, Sir. Dinner is ready in five minutes! You is to go down to the Great Hall to eat with the teachers." Harry groaned, but nodded, "Alright, I'm coming." Dobby 'popped' away again, presumably to help the other elves in the kitchens, but anything's possible. Harry, in the meantime, climbed out the portrait hole and walked down towards the Great Hall. He didn't run into anybody on his way done, but he assumed that, as it was a holiday, it wasn't likely that many people would be there. The Entrance Hall was also empty, but Harry walked through it, his feet 'clopping' on the cold floor, the sounds echoing through the hall. The Entrance hall was adorned in plain colors, nothing like the celebrations through most of last year had been decorated with. Thinking of the last year brought to mind Cedric Diggory, again. Harry felt a heavy weight on his heart, he had told Cedric to take the cup with him, and he had put Cedric in a position to be killed. Harry pushed open the door to the Great Hall, and walked inside. The hall was still set out in the four house tables and, of course, the high table. Dumbledore was sitting there, with Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Professor Trelawney. It appeared that even Snape had had somewhere else to go. "Ahh, Harry; come and join us up here. As you see, we are only five, but I'm sure you wouldn't want to see too many teachers during your holidays." Harry suppressed a grin, Dumbledore was far too knowing for his own good, sometimes. Trelawney looked up and gasped, Harry waited for the inevitable prediction; "My dear," she said, with horror on her face, "you do know that the spectre of death hangs in the air around you, do you know what this means?" "No, but I'm sure I can guess," he said, smiling widely, "I'm going to die soon. Am I right?" "How did you know?" she wailed, "do you have the sight too? Oh, but it will be brilliant to finally get someone else who has the Sight, I will no longer be alone!" Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and glared at him, as if to say, 'now look what you've done!' "Professor Trelawney, I'm sure you'll understand, I don't have the sight. I merely took an educated guess on the information you have given me previously." Dumbledore took that moment to intervene, "I believe a subject change is in order as I, for one, intend to enjoy my meal and talk of death will make that absolutely impossible." Harry, Flitwick and McGonagall laughed but Professor Trelawney looked horrified that her prediction had been scorned. McGonagall pointed to a chair beside herself, "sit down, Potter." They spent the rest of the meal eating calmly, undisturbed by any more predictions of death. The conversation stayed above board with discussions of current affairs, until it turned to Harry. "So, Potter, why have you returned to Hogwarts?" asked McGonagall, almost kindly. McGonagall was quite a strict teacher, and rarely had a kind word for anyone. She was outdone in the respect only by one other teacher, Snape. "Uhh," Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded, so Harry decided on the truth, "the Dursley's decided, I think, that they'd had enough of magic and would like to rejoin the world of 'normal people'." It was quite a conversation stopper, but Harry quickly turned it around, "I suspect if I tell the Weasleys, Fred and George would end up using Dudley to test all their new, uhh, merchandise." Everyone laughed, "Oh, yes," said McGonagall, "I remember some of the tricks that those two have played. There was one where." Conversation resumed as before. Harry didn't speak much, as he had little knowledge of the Wizarding world outside of Hogwarts but he listened carefully and made note of anything interesting. There had been an attack on some muggle-borns only a few days after he'd returned from the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, and there had been Death Eater sightings in all the major Wizarding venues throughout the world, with the 'culprits' apparating away as soon as they'd caused a panic. "He's just doing it to show us that he can," said Flitwick angrily, "he just wants to prove that he's strong enough and has the power to send us up in arms." "I quite agree, dear Filius," said McGonagall, "but you'd think that the man would have the brains to do it properly; he did only get 12 NEWTS when he was at school." Harry perked up, background information on Voldemort could be handy, "which subjects did he take?" "The usual ones, although not Muggle Studies, Divination or Arithmancy; they were too unpredictable for him." Trelawney gasped, "he did not study the future, but how could he?" It appeared to Harry that her opinion of the Dark Lord had diminished. Harry suspected that if Voldemort had been a certified Seer, she would have thought he was a good person, and everyone else was wrong. McGonagall smiled grimly, "Sybil, not everyone must study the future to be successful. They need only consult a Seer who can tell them exactly what they need to know of the future." "Minerva!" gaped the butterfly like Professor, "I know that you do not hold much faith in the art of Seeing, but I would have you know that even someone as harsh and unbelieving as yourself should consult a Seer once in a while; then you might have prior warning of any pranks being played," she sniffed angrily. "I'll keep that in mind," said Professor McGonagall dryly. 


End file.
